Life As We Know It
by yougonnapayforthatmango
Summary: Set four years after the events of Heavenly Fire, Clary and Jace find themselves expecting, though they aren't really sure what, seeing as a child with that percentage of angel blood has never been conceived, let alone born. Can they handle the trials that will soon face their gifted child? Clace.
1. Joyous News

**The plot of this story takes place a few years after _Heavenly Fire._**

 **Sorry for the grammar errors! I _kinda_ wrote this in one sitting...**

* * *

The music of the club was pounding against her head. Barely was the original composition recognizable with the swishing of electronic manipulation and screams from the drunken regulars. Girls and guys alike were giggling, their noses red from the irritation of what she refused to inhale from strangers. The DJ's face had a scar like no other, but the woman he loved did not mind it. A few paces away from him was she smiling sheepishly - proud of him in a way couples were. The twinkling lights above were mimicking stars, and she tried not to think of the _Wild Hunt_ , or the boy that was lost to it.

Where someone would get their shoulder bumped, it was the side of her head that met the sweaty arms of partygoers. It would take her away from her mission, make her want to pull out the Morgenstern weapon that was strapped to her thigh and show them how much of a heavenly mandate she was sticking to.

She began to scan the dirtied floor. When someone had been short for the entirety of their life like her, they'd learn to recognize shoes just as much as they would a face. This time, she was looking for pointed black heels with shining ankle bracelets adorning the ivory skin that sprouted from them. If not those, than the sneakers of her best friend- _or one of them_.

She was happy to call him that again, that he could remember the details of her face with a smile, returning her own feelings of recognition. No longer was he plagued with a sinful hunger, and in fact had the same angelic taint to his blood as her and the majority of those they hung out with. The same blood that was heated with a craving, that made her pursue not only her kind, but one of the opposite.

The reason they were here.

Clary spotted Isabelle moving sensually next to Simon, biting down a laugh when he tried to copy her hip-swaying. They appeared to be happy, blissful as they mimicked a couple in love. She found a smile sprouting on her face when she saw the love that emanated from the two lovers. Her heart skipped a few beats as she imaged the golden-haired boy wrapping his arms around her waist and planting a few kisses on her neck and cheeks. He was here, somewhere, watching her as she scoured the place for evil. Whether Jace trusted her or not, he could never let her hunt without him, even in the protection of their friends.

Some part of her was upset by this. At the age of twenty, she believed that she was entitled to some form of bravery. It was all a mirage if there was no _real_ threat. Clary was a child tricked into believing they had actually injured an adult. The other part of her, the part that was juvenile and playful, wanted to make some use of his protective gaze; wherever he was.

While pretending to look over her shoulder, she gave a devious grin that he would see, and joined the crowd of gyrating New Yorkers; closing her eyes and moving her hips to the pulsing music.

Courtesy of Bat.

It was as if his jealousy was reaching out towards her, though she could not see him. Her heart tugged on her limbs to try and stop her actions, to remind her that Jace was just nervous. But her mind, her upset and frazzled spirit, commanded her to throw a flirtatious pout at a passing Faerie, grabbing his attention and compelling him to walk her way. She was an emotional worm pulling on Jace's emotions, and if she was good enough, he'd be reaching for her in three, two-

"Get lost." His husky voice spat at the green-haired boy; his tan skin covering her exposed cleavage like a blanket. A grin of contentment gave away her plan, making Jace grown into her neck as he fell for her trickery yet again. "Why do you do this?" He asked humorously. As much as he tried to not let his nerves get the best of him, he simply could not. And each time did she win when she displayed her now matured body to the drooling male population.

"I like seeing you get all hot and bothered. Makes you dominant." She answered, turning to lock her arms around his neck. His brows furrowed, then smoothed out as he leaned close to her to press a kiss to her lips. "Ah, ah, ah." Clary chided, turning her head and once again scanning the floor for her - _and now their_ \- target.

"Why can't I kiss you?" He pouted, leaning in again with more aggravation to his attempt. Laughter bubbled up in her chest as she gently pushed him back.

" _I'm_ on a mission, remember? Or were you stalking me?" She giggled, releasing him and giving a spin - something she was grateful Isabelle had taught her how to do. Especially in the pointed heels that adorned her legs. Jace's eyes trailed up her composure; fingers twitching and urging him to grab at her.

"Stalking? Me? Jace Herondale? Never." He scoffed, lifting his chin and snapping his eyes shut. A ghost of a smile traced across his lips to show that he was indeed stalking her. When his eyes opened again, he took two long strides toward her and seized hold of her hips and guided her movements. For the few years she'd lived this life of being a Shadowhunter, she could no longer imagine returning to her mundane world. He'd made sure of it when he captured her heart and soul, trading them for his own beautiful ones. Everyday that she awakened next to him would she find herself thanking him for chasing after her, for fighting for the love that enveloped them both.

"Let me go and I'll thank you later…?" Clary propositioned. She could feel his arms tense at her sides as he debated whether it was worth it. Her back was to him, and as still as they were and how strange it would have looked to the mundanes, no one bothered them. Though, the intricate lines on both their arms were to thank for this.

"And just how will you thank me?" He teased, his fingers skirting her stomach in a caring manner, but at the same time making her cheeks flush and pulse race.

"We're two creative people who have the power to seal a door shut and silence our voices. What do you suggest?" She quipped, running her fingers up his strong arms. Jace chuckled into her neck, nuzzling his nose to her skin.

"Fine. But I'll be close." He muttered, taking her hand and giving her a spin in the direction of what he must have presumed was their target. Dazed from the twirl, she looked around her, searching for the predator with an intense focus that would have driven someone mad. Her ears twitched and skin prickled as she sensed the room around her; thinking back to the night she encountered the shadow world. What she had learned by observing Isabelle.

 _Isabelle_.

Clary turned, spotting the tall girl in seconds and seeing the intrigued face that she wore as her ruby pendant thrummed in alarm. Clary's hand grazed her thigh, feeling the family daggar; faintly remembering that she'd killed her own brother with the blade. Remembering his green eyes and the life that drained from them as he bled out…

"Hey! Earth to Clary!" Some groaned, snapping their fingers in front of her face. Her mind collected and her eyes flitted over to an annoyed Isabelle and curious Simon. "Did you forget that we are hunting a demon?" She questioned with sarcasm.

"No, did you?" Clary retorted.

"Have I ever?" Isabelle said with a raise of both brows and a higher pitch to her feminine voice. Clary stared at Simon for a second, grinning at her future reply.

"Seems like it when you're getting hot and bothered with my best friend." She shrugged. Simon's cheeks visibly flushed, his lips parting to say something, then shutting after a moment of thinking.

"Don't think I didn't see you with Jace. Remember what I said about protection?" Isabelle teased, her eyes lowering and her hands reaching to grab at her necklace and its pulsing. Clary's gaze quickly roamed around the room, wondering just who out of the frenzied crowd was a creature of shadows and hell fire. "Why don't you take this one, we'll follow." Isabelle suggested.

"Why me? You love to reel 'em in." Clary reminded in a whiney voice. Teasing was a whole other subject when someone had a dangerous creature drooling over them… and it wasn't Jace who was doing the chasing.

"My brother is looking out for you. If something happened to me, he'd think I would handle it. And we both know how much I hate getting dirty, especially with my boyfriend next to me." She explained.

"But my _fiance_ is watching me. What's the difference?" Clary asked.

"Get's his protective side out. And who knows, maybe he'll see that you can manage yourself without getting hurt?" Her words sunk deep into Clary, making the gears in her head turn as she considered it. Isabelle gestured to a boy with hair as dark as night and skin a color that bordered on silver. His outfit blended well with those around him; wearing a red button up and dark jeans. Clary found herself nodding and taking a few paces ahead of them, her eyes set on the disguised demon. Isabelle had taught her to not be obvious, but to tease. To play with their dark eyes and capture their attention with a wiggle of hips and a revealing of tender skin. Whether it would be her flaming hair or piercing green eyes was up to the monster.

Swaying her hips, minding her pointed heels that clicked on the floor, she passed the boy with a few feet of space to spare. Her pulse raced as she presumed he was intrigued by her. He was a fly caught in her web, with him thinking the opposite. She didn't dare to turn around and check if he was truly staring at her, just continued her playful stroll, grabbing the arm of another boy who was partying. He didn't put much thought into it when he took his place next to her and placed his hands at her waist, moving them both. Clary's eyes languidly moved to the space where - _to her luck_ \- the platinum boy was standing, beckoning him with her finger.

A grin spread to his face as he slowly moved in on her, his fingers itching to get a hold on her damp ivory skin. The closer he got, the thicker the air became, the quicker her heart beat, the faster her blood pulsed, and her stomach began to roll with repulsion. Her mind was moulding to the illusion, feeding the demon's curiosity and tugging him a few paces away from her. Clary pushed away the other boy and focused solely on him, feigning the innocence of a mundane. All too quickly did his eyes glimmer with a sinful lust, showering her a set of shining teeth. Whereas before she would have saw nothing strange about him, the huntress she'd become showed the dark shadows under his eyes, the unusual redness of his lips and pointed incisors.

She began to take a few steps backward, still encouraging him with the flicks of her index finger. In the farthest parts of her vision could she see the outline of Isabelle and Simon, their seraph blades faintly glowing in the club atmosphere. Her own sword had heated in the presence of the demonic boy, sensing the cruel intentions churning in his twisted mind.

The more she backed away, the darker her surrounding got as she entered a hallway. More sooner than later did her fingers trace around the knob to the storage room door. The boy's eyes shimmered with possibility as his pace increased. Clary turned the knob, the door opening with a squeak, then fully immersed herself in darkness. The door opened a second time, outlining the sharp features of the artifice boy before he shut it behind him.

"Has anyone ever told you that you look absolutely _edible_ in those heels." He breathed, his fingertips skimming over her hips. Clary swallowed back bile as she reached to touch his chest, ignoring her mind's protest as he pulled her closer and closer.

"I do?" She asked, one hand returning to her side to feel the bulge of her dagger.

"Oh, yes." He responded, leaning in and casting breaths down her chin. His skin was damp with sweat and literally stung against her angelic nature. Clary's fingers lifted the side of her dress, reaching for the blade. "Especially for a Shadowhunter." He said before slamming her against the wall of the large room. Her teeth shook in her head as she fought against the onset of vertigo.

"Did you figure me a fool? How can I not recognize a Morgenstern? Let's not forget the fact that you _reek_ of angelic essence!" He growled, his voice approaching her and sounding less human with each word. With an impatient groan, she wrapped her fingers around the sharp dagger and pulled, slicing open her palm; the blood appearing like black specks as the metal blazed in her grip and tore through her dress. The room lit up with heavenly flame, showing her what had previously been disguised as a boy and now a demon: with its flesh stretching out to resemble a morphed starfish. Its mouth was detached like some sort of hose, reaching out to snap at her. Heosphoros was blazing at her side, engulfing her in illumination to appear as if she were a supernova, a star giving off its last burst of light into the universe.

The sound of the steel door opening kicked at her attention, making her lose focus of the dangers creature for a miniscule fraction of a second. In that same second was her body gripped with what she could only describe as a wet rope; feeling the muscles of the creature's mouth wrap around her as such and pull her in. Now it was her that was the trapped fly and the demon a starving spider.

Heosphoros had fallen to the floor, clattering as it sucked the heavenly fire back into it and left the room in a darkened state; her only company being the sound of her panting and the secretion of saliva from the demon's mouth dripping onto the floor. Footsteps raced across the floor and under her - however high she was held.

"Clary!" She heard a familiar male voice shout before the room was once again bathed in light. The demon roared, squeezing her till a sickening crunch was heard and leaving her shoulders in pain. Clary yelped just as Jace flung his seraph blade into the stomach of the creature, ichor spurting out and the creature roared once more. There was a moment where air whistled past her cheek and then a crunch of her leg as she landed. Her skin burned in the demon blood, then began to numb as her vision blurred.

"Isabelle! Give me your steel! Simon, call Magnus and tell him to meet us and the institute!" Jace barked as he fell to his knees at her side, his fingertips cupping her chin and pulling her to remain conscious. "By the Angel, stay with me." He whispered with a throat that was audibly tight.

"I will." She said far too calmly for someone who was in so much pain. Jace nodded, whispering an apology before pressing a stele to her arm and burning her with heavenly inscription. As light poured from the making of runes, she noticed that the demon had evaporated along with its ichor, and what they were lathered in was in fact her blood that was leaking from her thigh. In fact, she could hear the sound of blood spurting from the wound every few seconds like the pushing and pulling of waves at the shore of a beach. The only thing that remained painless was her midsection.

"I'm starting to think you fancy me, Herondale." She said with a tight laugh as she witnessed how he worked on healing her, how he scooped her up and into his arm.

"Damnit, this is _not_ the time to work on your social skills!" Jace snapped, kissing her forehead and watching as Isabelle scribbled a portal onto the brick wall of the room. There was a moment of hesitation as he approached, then curled her into him before leaping through.

* * *

"What the hell did you do? Throw her into a dryer?" Magnus hissed as he looked at the wounded girl. Her skin was beginning to heal from the acidic ichor, and she her arms resembled the grotesque appearance of an eighties horror film antagonist. Her shoulder would occasionally crack as they healed themselves, and her thigh dribbled blood from the closing wound.

"Is there some way you can speed up the process?" Jace asked, not taking his eyes away from the unconscious Clary. His fingertips were too fearful of touching her, of causing any further damage and breaking her fragile state. Alec's face was visibly pained, sharing the emotionally agony of his _parabatai_. Magnus's fingers began to emit a blue flicker of light, already striding toward her.

"Move aside Shiloh." He muttered at the nerd.

"It's been almost five years! My name's Simon!" The boy huffed but moved aside nonetheless. Magnus shut his eyes, concentrating on the image of a healthy, happy Clary. Using this as his end point and wondering how to get there when he was just starting at point A. With a heavy exhalation of air, he ran his hands down Clary's arms, encasing them in the blue glow and watching as they increased the speed of the rune's magic. A lingering stare of her thighs and a flame coiled around them like a rope, beginning to heal the internal and external injuries with the devilish potence.

With his hands hovering over her head, his mind entered hers and searched her brain for places of distress that were fed from her nerves. Not hearing anything crucial, his hands lowered to her body.

It was like he was experiencing first hand what Chairman Meow was feeling when he bathed him: Magnus' eyes snapping open with a flame ghosting over their feline appearance as they were shown things that confused him painfully. His mind throbbed with images that were perhaps the only thing that had shocked him in the entirety of his extended existence. Magnus shot back a good five feet, him and the rest of the group gazing in disbelief as the burning rope and blue glow slithered over to her stomach where they were absorbed. All visible wounds healed and Clary appeared normal, like she hadn't been standing at Death's door with girl scout cookies. She did remain in her slumber, though.

"By the Angel." Isabelle gasped.

"Did I not remember this?" Simon thought outloud.

"Magnus?" Alec and Jace said with alarm. Magnus had nothing to reply, only managing to pant as he gathered his thoughts that had been scattered by the visions that were so unique even in a world of angels and demons. He looked down to see that the tips of his fingers were scorched from whatever it was that had caused the images. The part of him that was and always would be demonic shifted, whispering at him to retreat. Magnus had no idea just what to make of the visions that inspired such a reaction from his body, and neither did the rest of the confused shadowhunters.

"Woah." Was all he could say as he remained the safe distance away from Clary. The clearer the images were that had plagued his mind, the wider his cat eyes grew.

"Magnus, were your eyes on _fire_?" Alec questioned with a nervous tone. Magnus nodded at his boyfriend, still in a state of shock as his fingers began to quiver. Jace ran to Clary's side, searching for a pulse that relieved him when he found it.

"What happened, Magnus?" Jace asked, not letting go of Clary and cradling her head in his strong arms. The images, as confusing as they were, began to piece together like a puzzle. In one piece could he _feel_ the vulnerability of the beholder. The next one was of the rawest form of love, one that made him question the extent of human emotion as it thudded in his own heart. It was as if he'd consumed sugar products his entire life and only now could he taste the sweet crystal grains, the true source. One image, though, made his skin prickle and pulse race, making him feel like filth next to something so… _innocent_. Pure and untouched by the sins of mankind.

And, for the first time in his life, Magnus felt his eyes prickle with tears that could only have one word to tie his feelings together: Glory. Magnus wondered if this was what Theresa Gray felt like whenever she would take on the life of someone else. But, surely she would have shared this warmth with him, told him of the painful cleanliness that he was feeling at the moment.

Immediately did Alec rush to his side, holding his wounded hands in his own and looking up at him with worried blue eyes that he could envision in a previous generation of Herondale.

"Tell me, what's wrong?" Alec pleaded. Magnus could not smile, fearing that it would not truly capture the powerful emotions that did not even belong to him. The only thing that managed to escape his lips was something that was a mixture between a sob and a distorted laugh.

"Nothing is wrong." Magnus said truthfully, turning his gaze to Clary, who rested in Jace's lap. Oblivious to what was going on inside her. Those around him were hesitant to move, unsure of what was happening. With a passing thought, Magnus rose to feet, walking to the unconscious girl that he'd seen blossom into a woman and finally…

"Is she okay?" Jace croaked, tears hanging from his eyes but not falling. Magnus carefully placed his hand on Clary's head, hoping to see the visions again, but could not. Next, he centered them on her stomach, feeling the unusual warmth that only he knew the cause for. His throat burned, urging him to expel the truth. Though, he did not know where to begin, how to speak of something so significant and impossible. As if to try and describe a rainbow to a blinded man.

Clary's eyes fluttered open, her eyes sharing the same shocked expression that Magnus carried. Only, instead of her eyes glimmering with amazement, she began to sob joyously, scaring Jace, who thought she was in pain.

"Clary?! Are you okay? Does it hurt?" He panicked, holding her face in his hands as she began to grin the brightest of grins. She reached for the nape of his neck and brought him down to her, crushing his lips to hers. Magnus chuckled before turning to face the confused crowd.

"What's going on?" Isabelle said with fleeting worry and the trace of a smile on her lips as she watched Clary awaken. Magnus could hear her sobbing into Jace, holding him no doubt. Her happiness was contagious to everyone in the room as Jace asked what had caused the influx of emotions. Normally, such a subject wouldn't effect him, never mind bringing him to _tears._ But what he had seen was beautiful that in no way could he _not_ cry. If only could the others see what he saw. The only thing they could share was the information of what was happening to their dear friend.

"She's pregnant."

* * *

 **AN: So let me start off by explaining that the visions Magnus had were like the ones Ithuriel sent Clary, though not as strong as they didn't take away his vision. And since warlocks are Lilith's children, his body reacted badly as the baby has double the angelic blood in him or her, and the child felt like he was trying to hurt Clary so it stunned him. It was also the reason her stomach fluttered around the demon and downworlders. Hope that kinda explains some stuff in this chapter!**

 **The cover for this story is what I envisioned a Clace baby to look like, and created to resemble a baby photo. Again, sorry for the grammar errors!**

 **Leave reviews to let me know what you think!**


	2. Probable Outcomes

Pregnant? It took a few moments for Jace to realize what that meant. Was it the right time to have a baby? He pictured a squirming and giggling child in Clary's arms as she kissed its nose and cooed words that it probably couldn't understand. The instant he'd pictured it, he couldn't wipe the image from his mind. His eyes softened as he held his fiancee, his mouth pooling with words.

"You're, pregnant?" Jace blurted, looking down at Clary for confirmation. She had this glimmer to her eyes, one that showed complete bliss in their emerald pools. His hand searched for her abdomen, an expression of shock taking over his face at the hardness that was clearly there. He couldn't believe he had mistaken this for bloating or muscle growth! Yet, here it was, proof that their child was growing proudly...

A painful stretch was felt in his heart as it blossomed impossibly bigger. Already was he feeling love towards something he could not see, could not feel even. This love was different from the one he held towards Clary. Where it had taken time and caution to hand her a piece - and then fully - his heart, it was instantaneous that everything he was, used to and would be belonged to this lone soul. This small thing that he'd just learned about not five minutes ago.

After a moment of silence, he found himself wrapping her in his protective hold, wanting to hide her away from their world of demons, demons, and _greater_ demons. There was much to fear, and his thoughts roamed to enemies he'd gained as each year passed. Would they try to hurt the baby? His chest tightened in a sampling of the grief he would feel if something were to happen to the child. Jace wanted to take his fiancee back to the Herondale manor where he could keep them safe. There was so much to worry about! And yet, he realized there was a smile blooming across his face as he imagined holding something that was a part of him and Clary. Would they have her red hair, or his golden locks? Her stunning green eyes or his impossible gold ones? Would they be a tall and muscular clone of him, or a someone who was delicate with the things they touched. Oh, they'd be so fragile. So… easily grasped by anyone around them. An impressionable little thing.

The first of many sounds he heard was Isabelle squealing and urging Jace to stand so she could hug Clary. His fiancee sheepishly grinned as he lifted her, blushing as Isabelle lightly chided her about protection and their lack of it. Alec clapped Jace on the back, congratulating him, and Magnus joined Isabelle in their show of affection for Clary. Simon stood awkwardly for a second before walking to his best friend's side and giving her a hug just as strong as the last two people.

"Oh, God, you're going to get _huge_!" Isabelle gasped, her eyes lowering to Clary's still-flat stomach. Jace growled at her before hugging his fiancee protectively. "Sorry, but you're small, and you're body has to make room for a baby! A _baby_! I can't remember once since, oh…" Her eyes began to water and she covered her face with her slim fingers as she looked at Jace and Clary both.

"Izzy? Are you alright?" Simon asked, his hand on her shoulder. Isabelle turned to him, nodding and feverishly brushing away tears that were sure to ruin her mascara. Jace could hardly believe that she was crying, the only time being when she remembered Max, but those were tears of sadness. Never had he seen her cry over something as joyous as the expecting of a baby. And not even her _own_ child, but _his_.

"I'm going to be an aunt!" She giggled tearfully, pulling the couple into her toned arms and sobbing loudly. Jace grimaced, Isabelle was always an ugly crier. "Oh, my baby brother's going to be a daddy!" She squealed. Jace couldn't help himself as he opened his mouth and spoke what his sister had inspired him to.

"I already _was_ …" Jace muttered to himself, thinking about the times he had slid Clary between his thighs and kissed the nicknames right out of her mouth.

"Jace!" Isabelle gasped but Clary just rolled her eyes at him.

"Wait, is that what sent you flying backwards and burned you? The baby?" Alec asked his boyfriend. "Magnus, _how_?" Jace turned his attention to the warlock, worried that he'd sensed something wrong with his child, or Clary, or _both_.

He held her tighter.

"It was… amazing. Words can't describe what I saw, or come close to a description." Magnus answered vaguely.

"Can you try?" Jace said in a tone that was nearing a growl. _This was his child they were talking about!_ The warlock's gaze flitted around the room till it rested on Clary, with a softness that Jace hadn't seen Magnus possess until today. In fact, Magnus was never one to be happy. Dramatic maybe, but never blatantly happy.

"Jace, remember when we found the angel Ithuriel?" Clary asked. They both grimaced, thinking back to the the horrible image of a tortured heavenly soldier. _How did that have anything to do with their child?_ Jace felt her skin prickle next to his as she too felt grief at the angel's display of their family's past.

"Yeah, but this is our _child_ , not an angel depicting it's tortured captivity." He pointed out with a shudder. A small part of him was insulted that his child be merged with the topic of the monster that was Valentine Morgenstern.

Their child's grandfather.

"The things it showed us… they were his history, what he had seen since his existence, his _creation_. I could feel what he was thinking, how much love he already felt for his parents, how he loved to hear a certain person's voice, or when you played the piano. Thinking back to the times I've fallen down, there were moments he showed me when his world shook." Clary chuckled with emotion thick in her throat, her gaze lowering to her stomach. Fear spread in Jace's chest as he worried that any accident, tonight's in particular, could have taken effect on the baby. But, the softer parts of him melted at the thought of his baby tuning into his piano playing, wanting to be closer to his father.

"Oh, it's already so aware!" Magnus added, bringing - _pulling_ \- Jace out of his various thoughts and feelings. Though, he cursed the warlock silently for referring to his child - the heir of the Herondale family name - as an _it_.

"How though? She can't be more than a couple months, can she?" Isabelle pondered, looking at Clary and probably staring down her abdomen with number ticking about in her head. Jace covered his fiancee's stomach whether or not he was worried about her feelings getting crushed, or simply because his child was resting there.

"The extra angel blood could be the cause for this. I don't know, this is all very new for me. I've seen creatures closer to demons, but never… _angels_. Sure there's you two," Magnus gestured to Jace and Clary. "but this child will be noticeably more powerful, and in the womb can it already do things no shadowhunter can. The Clave will have a ball figuring this all out." The warlock groaned. Jace tensed at anyone besides his immediate family finding out about his child.

"The Clave! By the Angel, we have enough trouble getting them to leave us alone, never mind with the news of our angelic spawn!" Clary huffed. "Do you think they'll make him do anything?" She asked Jace, fear making her already gentle voice even softer against his and everyone else's ears. He wanted to tell her that no one would lay a hand on this or any other child they had, but he couldn't promise a thing knowing that their government wasn't made entirely of their friends. With the addition of the Seelie court, he was concerned about them not being able to hide the truth. What would they tell others who wanted to pry in on the news of a gifted child?

"No?" Jace shrugged, still holding her close to him as if someone could take her and their baby away. A sob cracked in Clary's throat and all Jace could do was kiss her head to comfort her.

"Mom and Dad won't let that happen!" Isabelle cried out, shaking her head at them both. Alec moved towards his sister but she shrugged off his hand that had landed on her shoulder. "I know the Clave has done some horrible things in the past, but this is a _baby_ we're talking about! They were even merciful when the rest of the Circle had been arrested, because of us! The Clave must have _some_ decency! They're just shadowhunters, we're part of it too!" She growled at her brothers and a doubtful Clary.

"Isabelle, we haven't spoken to Dad in the Angel knows how long, and Mom a wreck." Alec whispered. What he said was true. After the divorce, Robert had buried himself in his work, and Maryse shut herself in a room or on some days was overbearing with her children. Alec and Jace were quiet about the separation, while Isabelle was visibly displeased with her father and constantly picking fights with the older Lightwood. Eventually, when Jace and Clary moved to the Herondale manor, he presumed that with Robert leaving as well that the Lightwood children had no contact with their father.

Isabelle was at a loss for words as anger boiled in her cheeks. Her head shook as she stared at her brothers. "You're _wrong_. He wouldn't let this happen. Not after Max." Jace could hear the force she put forth to let the name leave her mouth. Alec tensed and Clary looked up at Jace to see if he too was going to implode with emotion.

"I'm sure they wouldn't want to get on a _Morgenstern's_ bad side." Clary reasoned with a light voice, trying to brighten the darkening mood of the room. Simon smiled tightly at her while Jace began to worry more about his child's ancestry. How do you tell your kid that their mother killed both her father and brother, one of which was willing to, and partially _did_ commit genocide (although for a few minutes with his adopted son) while the other delved into incest. _Valentine had even killed him! Had even killed their child's other grandfather and great grandparents! Was the cause of Imogen's death, and so many others..._

Yes, the Clave _should_ worry about getting on a Morgenstern's bad side.

"Yeah, we brought them together, _and_ it's not like we don't have some members of the Council to stop them." Simon gestured towards a dazed Magnus. He looked around the room, and Alec kicked at his shin probably for not speaking up earlier.

"Oh, right. I forget I'm a part of that." Magnus thought outloud. The muscles in Jace's back relaxed and he found himself taking breaths at a slower pace. "You shouldn't have to worry with Luke there too. Anselm isn't too intrigued by the 'gift' that is Shadowhunters either." Magnus laughed, focusing on some random aspect of the infirmary.

"Can we go home now?" Clary groaned, nuzzling her nose into Jace's bicep. He chuckled, brushing a loose curl behind her hair. "I want to change out of this dress and heels." She added. Jace nodded at her, turning to look up at the group of calmed friends.

"Speaking of that dress, you _owe_ me a shopping trip." Isabelle grinned at the exhausted Clary, who huffed at the thought of walking around a mall for the entirety of a day.

"Really?" Clary pouted.

"Yeah, plus, won't you want to get maternity wear or something bigger than those small close you wear?" Isabelle suggested, not aware that she was also commenting on Clary's impending weight gain.

" _And_ , I want you to stop by our place so I can find out more about this golden child." Magnus said quickly so as to not dwell on Isabelle's words. Jace nodded in agreement to his order. The more he knew about his child, the safer he could make his future wife and kids.

"Golden child? Really Magnus?" Alec chided with a smile. The group chuckled, along with Magnus.

"Sorry, but Edmund didn't let me say that with Ella…" His sentence trailed off as he realized no one knew what he was talking about. Jace cocked his head to the side as he remembered reading the name Edmund somewhere in the family tree that had been shown to him after he'd been discovered as a Herondale. An look of sadness crossed Magnus' face before he wiped it off and strolled over to Clary to hug her.

"I didn't think I'd ever be experiencing this when I saw you at the age of two, when your mother first brought you to me." Magnus blurted as he hugged Jace's one and only. "I've seen countless births in my years as an immortal, but I can't wait to see how this will all turn out." He finished, setting Clary free so she could walk with Jace to where Isabelle was forming a portal.

Jace wanted to stop and think about how things _would_ turn out. Would they remember this moment and laugh at how worried they'd all been, or sigh at how times had been much simpler? He really hoped the outcome wasn't the latter.

* * *

 **AN: Comments? Questions? Leave them in the reviews!**


	3. Two of A Kind

"You know, the last time I was doing any magic on you, you'd leave not remembering me." Magnus joked as Clary lay on an arched cushion that thinly resembled something that a doctor would have his patient lie down on. Jace nervously glanced at the High Warlock of Brooklyn, wondering if he could already tell if something was different about Clary or the baby's condition. Whether it was because of finding out that she was carrying his child or possibly that his heart had swelled with such love for them both, Jace could see a glow to her skin. A pinkish tint to her ivory cheeks. Even the way she talked sounded like the ringing of a well-crafted bell.

"Jace, cut it out." Clary spoke up, startling him out of his reverie.

"What? Cut what out?" He frowned, taking her hand in his own to assure her that wasn't fretting over this visit since the night before when they uncovered her pregnancy. "I'm doing… better. I promise I won't freak out." Jace said, kissing her knuckles while keeping one hand behind his back like people did in the movies she'd shown him when they wanted to shed off some of the guilt for lying.

"He has his fingers crossed." Magnus said flatly, closing his eyes and breathing in to concentrate on the feeling of magic sparking between his palms. Jace looked at him incredulously, shooting daggers at his wrinkle-less face. Clary rolled her eyes and sighed loudly with disappointment.

"How'd you know?"

"Jace!" Clary said, angered that Magnus had been right.

"What do you expect, Clary? This is our _child_ , and you figure me as a man that wouldn't care enough to worry?" Jace snapped, immediately regretting it. Clary's gaze lowered while Magnus' raised and he glared at the blond. "I'm - I'm sorry, I didn't mean to sound so harsh-" He began.

"No, I'm sorry. You must be worried sick, and me telling you to be calm isn't helping." She nodded, brushing her hand across her cheek where a tear must've slid down; making him feel low for making his pregnant fiancee cry. In that moment, he felt closer to his father in all the wrong ways. Had Stephen ever done this to Celine?

"You know I love you both, right?" He asked, kissing her knuckles again and nuzzling into her palm afterwards. She nodded as Magnus cleared his throat. "Are you ready?" Jace asked him.

"The question isn't whether _I_ am ready, but if you both are." Magnus corrected, his cat eyes flickering a neon yellow as the humidity in the room increased. Jace and Clary answered with an nervous _yes_. Jace intertwined their fingers together, his jaw clenching as the warlock raised a hand to hover over Clary's stomach. There was pause in Jace's thinking as a feeling of confusion slithered between their joined fingers and into his head. Clary's face contorted in a lost expression, dazed even, but Magnus did not experience the tremor of emotion.

The lights of the room shut off, replaced by a blueish hue that was emanating from Magnus' palms. Sweat rose from the warlock's pores as he muttered something underneath his breath. Vertigo hit Jace as he kneeled beside Clary and he was sure that he would have fallen if he were to be standing at the time. He shut his eyes to steady his world and regain some form of mental stability

"Magnus," Clary whispered with tension between her teeth. The clattering of objects varying from small to large was growing louder around them. Jace popped open his eyes to see the room practically floating, excluding the mattress that Clary was laying on. He was at a loss for words as he stared at the levitating nightstands and end tables, even the dishes from the kitchen had wandered to where they were, like a magnet had pulled each of the fine china to the main room. "Magnus, something doesn't feel right…" Clary spoke up again.

Magnus groaned, and Jace stared in shock as cracks broke out across his glimmering skin, like volcanic rock splitting to reveal magma. Clary was whimpering with her mouth and eyes shut tightly as if the energy inside her would spew out like a hose. "It's too much…" Clary trailed off, holding Jace's hand over her stomach that was hot to the touch. Jace pulled his hand back, remembering a time when he'd been consumed by heavenly fire, comparing this to that moment when he lost control.

"Magnus, that's enough!" Jace snapped, growling when his skin heated up in pain as well. The urge to protect Clary was mixed with fear and unexplained guilt, taking away his vision and replacing it with images of blinding fire, some sort of tent filled with water and hands being placed outside of the tent; blocking out the warm light that was streaming through. They pulled away painfully from his mind, making his teeth grind together in resistance. All things that had been floating came crashing to the floor as if they had been forced down, most breaking on impact. The cracks shut on Magnus' skin, but he wouldn't have taken notice to them anyway.

Clary was weeping on the mattress and Magnus had fallen to the floor. Jace cupped Clary's chin but she couldn't focus on anything but the hold she hand on her abdomen. In the back of his mind did he register what had just happened though the safety of his fiancee was much too important to allow himself to wander about in his thoughts.

"By the Angel, are you alright, Clary?" He said with shaking fingers as he grasped at her shoulders. She wouldn't open her eyes as she kept sobbing. Magnus was panting as he regained his footing; walking up to the couple and standing undecidedly next to Jace. "What _happened_?" Jace growled at the warlock, not for a second taking his eyes off of Clary. A pair of hands reached at her stomach, pulling back her shirt to show severe burns that had not been there before, and as soon as they appeared did they also leave suddenly; melting back into Clary's skin and leaving no trace of the injury. Jace had no words to speak.

Anger boiled in his chest as he realized what had done this to her. His child, of course it was a Herondale to hurt a woman. _He should have been more careful when they were intimate, and now he was only causing her pain with his corrupted spaw-_

"It's… _really_ protective of her." Magnus answered with an incredulous tone to his sentence. Jace whipped his head back, prepared to snap at him with all the rage and worry pent up in his chest. "Okay, what I mean is that it doesn't like magic, at all. At least, not the kind that warlocks manipulate." He clarified.

"So you expect me to believe that a _fetus_ lifted furniture and nearly killed the High Warlock of Brooklyn and its father, never mind burning its own mother?" Jace scoffed. Magnus, however, agreed to the slapdash presumption. Clary had stilled next to him, and he realized that the temperature of her abdomen had cooled to its default.

"It's a defence mechanism, so to speak. I got too close, and what we saw was how it wanted to protect her, protect its mother." He detailed. "It feels guilty for hurting her though." Magnus finished.

"How did _he_ hurt her though? Didn't you say he wanted to protect his mother?" Jace said, emphasizing on the pronoun so Magnus could stop referring to his child as an it.

"You have heavenly blood running in you, Jace Herondale, straight from the angels themselves. Both of you do. With enough of that power can someone generate… heavenly fire." The last words to leave Magnus' lips made Jace want to shout back that he was wrong. That, after such a blaze had nearly destroyed his life, he didn't think it would ever resurface. He remembered when he had lost control for just a second, and burned whatever it was that was in his grasps. _How would a baby rein in discipline? Let alone an infant!_

"You're wrong. What you're saying is _impossible_." Jace hissed, moving Clary to where he could cradle her limp body in his arms.

"No, not impossible, just new. There is a reason that shadowhunters don't have an excess of angel blood, and this is why."

"Is there any way to stop this, to keep her safe, or at least to ensure safety?" He asked in a whisper so soft that he wondered if he thought the sentence out, surprised when Magnus responded to him. His features calmed as he opened his mouth, his hands locking together in front of him.

"There's one way that I can promise you she'll be okay," Magnus said in a guilty voice. Jace's brows furrowed with anger as his fists clenched around Clary. As frightened as he was, never would he take away this thing, this beautiful thing that had already made an impression on their lives.

"No, Magnus. Absolutely not." He said finally. Jace swore to himself that he wouldn't be like his father and force Clary to do something she wasn't willing to. He wouldn't force a child in or out of her life, not if she swore against it. But, what if he _could_ get her to see reason? To see that a child between the two of them was far too dangerous to carry. He'd even offer adoption if it meant that he could keep her longer. Nothing was worse than seeing the burns his child had cast upon her, its own _mother_. How could he love something that hurt the woman he loved? His thoughts stopped as he realized who he sounded like.

"Then the answer will remain undecided."

* * *

He rose with a stretch, throwing the blankets off the bed and swinging his feet over the mattress. Clary groaned in her sleep, angry for the cool air that seeped under the bedding, so Jace quickly fixed his error and kissed the side of her head lovingly. His lips brushed against the corners of her smile, making his own lips do the same as he returned to his task of getting out of bed. The muscle's of his back cried out in response to his stretching as he stood tall. He hadn't remembered getting any sleep the night before.

"Come back to bed," Jace heard Clary say in a voice so soft and delicate that it shed a few years off her age. A low chuckle rumbled in his throat as he padded over to the bathroom, making sure he didn't ram his foot into the counter of the sink as he'd done so many times before. He slid down his boxers, as he didn't change into pajamas and instead stripped to his underwear the night before. The sheer worry of the future that was condemned to his child made sure that he wasn't stiff and ready to reacquaint himself with his wife's needy body.

 _Wife?_

Jace shook his head, correcting the word to _fiancee_ as he tucked himself back into the delicate fabric of his gray boxers.

"Do you want me to make you anything?" A voice sounded from the bed. Still was she using that same feather-light voice. But this wasn't the only change in her this morning. Jace was surprised that she'd even offer to prepare breakfast, considering she saw that he was a much better cook than she, which wasn't saying much since he best meal was macaroni. As far as he knew about mundanes and their everyday lives, Jace was sure that they didn't enjoy macaroni for breakfast, much to his chagrin.

He peeked his head out of the bathroom doorway and saw that she was still in a ball under the blankets like a scared child. A part of him recounted that she still _was_ one, and felt guilt for taking her youth away.

 _No… she was only six months younger than him,_ he thought. Jace's brows furrowed as he brushed away the strange assumption. Perhaps the sleep deprivation was getting to him? He promised himself that he'd try to get a few more minutes of rest once he showered and properly welcomed his wife into the new day.

There is was again! Maybe he was excited for the wedding? Of course, that was probably it. He wondered if her near-full term would be shocking to the guest of their wedding. _Sure, she was a small thing, but even the smallest of women grew to accommodate children while they were pregnant._ _His son was bound to carry the Herondale stature that neared six feet._

Again did his thoughts confuse him. Clary wasn't even showing and here he was already assuming that she'd be large by the ceremony. And his son? He knew that Clary had called their child a he, but she'd probably prefer _he_ over _it_.

Jace realized that Clary was waiting on his answer for breakfast.

"Uh, no that's alright. We'll just pick up something from Taki's on our way to see Magnus." He answered gently, staring at her exhausted form.

"Magnus? I thought you didn't want to associate with… _them_." She said worriedly, though not rising from the bed just yet. Jace's eyebrows furrowed as he tried to figure out what it was that she was talking about.

"The Council? Is that it?" He asked, clueless. Jace saw her shake her head, the noise being her over the silk fabric of the pillows.

" _Downworlders_." She answered him. He was taken aback by the phrase, having not heard it in so long. And, he never thought he'd hear her say it in such a… _negative tone?_ Why would she be acting this way.

"Downworlders? What's up with you?" Jace asked, stalking over to her but pausing as he passed a mirror. There was something different about his appearance, the tired look to his composure - even if he did just wake up a few minutes ago. His gaze trailed from the different placement of fading runes to the birthmark on his shoulder. At least that remained the same, but it wasn't as bright. He looked at himself, recoiling back from the mirror with a violent surge of fright.

Was what he had seen _real_? He couldn't scrub the oceanic color out of his mind as he rose from his position on the floor. The mattress shifted as Clary was no doubt rising to see if he was alright. Though he couldn't bring himself to look at her as he approached the mirror once more. His hands brushed his cheek bones, and they appeared more angular, deep shadows cast upon them with exhaustion. Had he been so tired?

Jace looked at himself, sucking in a breath of chilly Idris air as he gawked at the change of his eye color. They were not their golden default, but were a stunning blue!

"Oh! He's kicking! I swear he is!" He heard Clary giggle, and turned around to see what she was talking about. Magnus had talked about their child being a bit more progressive in the night of his child's discovery, but _kicking_? Wasn't it too soon for such a thing?

When his eyes landed on Clary, they grew wide with shock.

Where red hairs had curled wildly around her midsection, they were now a common blonde, and straighter. Her skin wasn't as pale, but much more at the same time. She looked almost sickly, but the sickness was natural? Her naturally small body was frail, reminding him of the angel he'd watched die in Fairchild manor.

And her stomach… by the Angel was it so much more bigger than the night before! This woman wasn't Clary, she was the exact opposite. His heart didn't give that thud of pure love when he saw her, because the one he loved was living somewhere else.

Jace's head shook away the thought as he approached the woman who had an almost child-like face despite it's deep shadows of weakness and her swollen abdomen. She was giggling as she held her stomach, scaring him half to death when she reached for his hand and rested it on her abdomen. Sure enough, he felt a thud against his hand.

"Look, I don't know who you are, but I need you to leave." Jace asked in a shaky voice, taking his hand away from the woman's pregnant belly. _Should he even call her a woman? She looked like a teenager!_ Her features collapsed to sadness, and her face grew even darker without the faint glow of her smile.

"I'm sorry about what happened to her brother, but you can't, after finding out about our son, still be in love with her, Stephen." She whispered, sounding weak and vulnerable as she spoke. Jace backed up from her in disbelief.

"What did you call me?" He gasped.

"I figured since you didn't want me calling you Sir anymore, that it was okay to use your name." She explained, her fingers messing with the slip she had on. _Who wears slips these days?_ Jace thought to himself.

"No," he said, shaking his head at her answer. "I _mean_ why did you call me that?" He asked with more clarity to his question. Her eyes lit up with confusion, her head cocking to the side.

"Because that _is_ your name?" She said with a raised eyebrow and a higher pitch to her adolescent voice. Jace's fingers were starting to feel thick with numbness, as if he'd stuck them in cold water and let them shrivel up.

"No, it's not. My name is Jace… Herondale." His last word came out as a whisper, and he turned back the mirror to feel recognition in the blue of his eyes. Of his father's eyes. It made sense, with how his appearance had aged slightly in the curves of his face. But the exhausted look added to it.

"Celine?" Jace said to what he believed to be his mother. Her ears pricked up as if waiting a command, making his throat tighten in bile.

"Yes?" She chirped.

 _No…_ Jace thought to himself. The eager wait for an order that he saw in the ghost of his mother was nauseating to him. How young she was, and pregnant. His father was practically cradle robbing!

"This isn't happening." He thought outloud. He wanted to find Clary, to ask her what was happening and to hear her reassuring opinion. And he needed to know that his child was safe.

"Stephen, what's wrong-"

"I'm not him!" Jace snapped back, his fists clenching. Tears pooled in his mother's eyes, and his knees began to feel weak with regret. "Wait! Please don't cry!" He scrambled to her side where she buried her face in his chest that was more muscular than he remembered. "I'm sorry, but I don't know why this is happening." He explained.

"... this is our baby. I thought you would love us both, in time. Why is it so hard to love him, at least. He's just a baby! He didn't _ask_ to be created!" She cried. Jace's throat tightened at remember how his mother had slit her wrists, not caring for the younger Jace inside her.

The crying stopped and Jace looked to see that his mother was gone. A soft cooing was heard across the room and his eyes travelled to… _Clary!_ His excitement then turned to panic as there was a baby in her arms, and as she cradled it, her wrists were bleeding.

" _Hush little baby, don't say a word…_ " She sung, brushing back the golden curls that were in its eyes, and in doing so did she smear blood across its forehead. Jace felt like he was going to be sick.

" _Momma's gonna buy you a mocking bird…"_ Clary continued, giggling as the baby reached for her hand and stuck a finger into its mouth, not minding the globs of blood that spread to ribbon around its gums. Jace stood from the bed, approaching her with caution.

"Clary, give me the baby," he soothed, reaching for the child that looked at him with green eyes that matched hers. Clary's singing stopped abruptly, and when Jace peered up at her, she was weeping softly. He took the baby out of her arms, and instantly did it begin to wail. The deep cuts in her wrist caused blood to drip onto the floor with a noise that made him want to heave.

"You don't care about us." She stated, not minding to raise concern about her grave injuries. Jace rocked the baby in his arms to soothe him, but it was of no use. His gaze lowered when the child stilled as Clary continued on. "I'm a benefit. Something you want to use improve our species. You wouldn't want me if it wasn't for Valentine and what he did." Jace watched as the child's eyes turned golden and shaped to match his own.

"You're just like him." And this time it was Celine saying this with anger as Jace looked down at an infant version of himself, watching as the child turned pale with oxygen deprivation and his skin slick with a thick fluid. In front of him did he hear his mother collapse to the ground with a thud.

* * *

"No!" Jace bellowed as he sat up in bed, his eyes shut tight and his fingers digging into the palms of his fists. He heard a click and then there was a warmth trying to pry into his shut eyes. Someone reached out for him, touching his bicep, but Jace recoiled and skidded off the bed, opening his eyes to see a shocked Clary with her hand lowering.

"Jace?" She asked, confusion making her voice high and reminding her of his dream. Of his nightmare. "Jace, calm down." Clary said, her eyes soft and yet sharp as they assessed his condition. He didn't like it when she did that: tried to dissect him with only her strong gaze. It was enough to have him taking a few steps back from the foot of the bed. Her soft eyes grew pained as she was trying to understand what was wrong with him. Why he was breathing so hard and sweating when it was a cold night in Idris.

There had been few times when Jace could say he was afraid, and even fewer could he say that he was terrified for. Like, when he first met Clary and felt his heart turn away from those around him and centered on her. He was terrified when he found out the monster that everyone had been talking about was his father, and then when he learned that the only woman he could think of loving was his sister. He was terrified when he figured he'd lost Clary to who believed at the time was Sebastian Verlac. He was terrified when he saw his toy soldier hanging from Max's limp hand, and even more so when he learned of the man who'd done such a thing to his family. Now, as he remembered his mother telling him that he'd turn into his Downworlder-hating father, he couldn't imagine a more frightened feeling coursing through his veins and being pumped by his heart.

"Please," Clary sobbed. He looked at her, sentences upon sentences caught in his throat. His knees felt weak with untreated shock, but his fists were still tight at his sides as he just… stared at her. She couldn't have been experiencing half of the emotions flooding through him, but she was showing twice as much. Was it the hormones? He didn't know.

"I - I can't." He croaked; his knees giving out and sending him to the floor where he still failed to show any reaction towards what had engulfed his mind. Clary rushed over to him, combing her small hands through his hair and whispering words of comfort in his ears. He could have sworn that he heard what she was saying, but it would have been a poor gamble.

"You're alright. We're alright." She insisted, her hands rubbing his back soothingly like Celine should have done. Would have done if it weren't for Stephen. Would she have have committed suicide if it weren't for Jace as well? Was the thought of raising a monster's son alone that impossible for her? Even Jocelyn had returned for Jonathan the night of the Uprising. Why did she want to kill him? Kill her son who had no chance, to take him down alongside her and Stephen.

 _ **"... this is our baby. I thought you would love us both, in time. Why is it so hard to love him, at least? He's just a baby! He didn't**_ **ask** _ **to be created!"**_ Jace thought of the words Celine had wept. He then thought of the dying fetus in his arms that was him. Was that what Valentine had rescued? Had cut out of her? How had he turned the lifeless baby into the warrior he was now?

He hadn't even heard the words leave his mouth repetitively until his jaw kept brushing against the crook of her neck enough times to warm his chin. "I'm not him, I'm not him, I'm not him…" He sobbed into her skin, making it damp with his tears. Every few seconds did his body rack with sob-induced hiccups. Nevertheless, she continued to rub his muscular back with her delicate hands, coaxing the emotions out of him.

Jace realized that he was clinging to Clary tightly, more tightly that what was probably comfortable for her. He released her, just a bit though. He didn't think he could handle letting her go when he was crumbling.

"Was it just a dream?" She asked him. A dream? There was no word for what he'd just experienced. He was sure that if he looked into the mirror, his father's blue eyes would be staring back at him, and that if he focused hard enough would Clary's red hair turn blonde. That her wrists would be slashed from the sadness he'd eventually throw her into. The last time he had a nightmare this vivid, he actually did end up hurting her.

"No," he answered honestly.

* * *

 **AN: Things are getting a bit angsty in this chapter. Jace is afraid of becoming his father (obviously) with the fact that he now struggling to love the baby that is hurting Clary. Maybe in the next chapter will we hear Clary's point of view on the pregnancy...**

 **Special thanks to all of you that take the time to read this story!**

 **Leave your comments in the reviews and I'll get started on the next chapter!**


End file.
